Drivel
Notes: Below are pages out of Rita Degollar's diary, transcribed and edited for legibility. Unsent Letter She shut her door with the knob twisted for silence, but the hinges squealed. Remy glanced over, standing at his usual post in the hallway. "Good morning, Rita." She fumbled with her keys and ducked her head to hide a stupid grin, but allowed herself a peek at him through her curls. "G-good morning. Um. B-bye." "Bye." August, 2020 Dear Remy, I think it's super brave of you to guard Fetch Court the whole time you've been herethough the first thing I noticed when I met you was how super soft your hands were, it was amazing. I know that soft hands aren't really a super tough guy trait, but I really like it, so I've been secretly finding excuses to shake your hand all the time without being creepy. I've also been trying to figure out how to ask you out without seeming (Haha, changelings) like a weirdo, since we live like ten feet away from each other. It's also hard because you're like all stoic and dedicated, and kind of a rabbit plushie, which is so awesome, and you're probably super amazing to snuggle with. I'm mostly made of some robot parts, like I told Mojo, but I left some details out. My chest is mostly a giant, bloody heart so full of worms that they spill out of it everywhere, and my head is a mangled dog head, with bloody empty eye sockets, and my hands are its severed paws, which are also super gory. I stutter because the jaw was ripped off, and the robot one that I have instead sticks if i get nervous. No one here in the freehold has ever seen it. It's pretty gross, so I'm kinda afraid that you might not be interested in like, dating or anything if you knew what I really look like. I think I have a planthough, and if you aren't scared of me or anything when I do it, then I'll try to ask you outFingers crossed. of a romanticized heart P.S: Sorry for ignoring you, Diary, I just wrote this pretend-letter out here, so it's out of my system. Hopefully it'll help me stop being a total dork. I swear to God, if someone who is not me is reading this, you are a jerk for reading my diary. Normalcy "You engaged them." His words were clipped. The Harvest King had given them two rules. Two very straightforward, very simple rules. "Did any of you look back?" Everyone in turn gave him a variation of "No" or shook their head in earnest. Rita could only tremble and wish she was invisible. She'd broken both of the rules even after the rest of the motley booked it back to the Hedge gate. "Rita." She whispered, but it didn't help. "I looked back." His gold eyes burned and his lips pressed into a line. "How close were they?" She told him. September, 2020 Dear Diary, I haven't written for the past, like, week because things have been really weird and crazy. I've decided that I'm not going to write about any of those things, because I'm going to go insane if I keep thinking about them, so, from now on, only normal things are allowed in here. Normal things like datespoint dotted with a tiny heart I executed my super risky plan, and I told Remy about what I look like, and I built a cat in front of him, and he totally didn't even bat an eye at any of it, so I asked him if he wanted to get coffee or something with me sometime, and he said yes. I was SUPER happy. Yesterday, he asked me if I wanted to go to dinner with him, and I said yes, but I had to do something (weird and crazy stuff). I kind of really, really screwed that up, so the whole freehold got put on lockdown, and Remy and I couldn't leave to go anywhere. I didn't tell him that it was my fault (that'd be totally stupid to do), so instead we still had a super romantic date in back of the cafeteria kitchen. That sounds stupid when I write it. I still don't really know how he did everything in like ten minutes. Conversation was awkward, I was really high-strung the whole time. Afterward we went back to my room and watched a scary movie, and after that we said goodnight and he left, but around like 3a.m. I had a really awful nightmare and I was scared, so I knocked on Remy's door and asked if I could stay with him. Oh my God, Diary, I was totally right about the snuggling. That's all for now, I think. I need to shower. Oh! I got my stutter fixed! That's not normal, but it's important to me, so I'm telling you. --- "She shows up all-all the t-time, s-sort of," Rita whined, desperate to avoid what was looking more and more unavoidable. "W-we can totally wait un-until later, or like tomorrow, or-or-" "We're going to tell the Harvest King, now." Penny's smile was both immobile and terrifying. "And we're going, with or without you. I'll take your car, I don't need the keys." It wasn't a threat; it was a promise. Rita grimaced and twisted her fingers together and glanced down at her untouched meal, stalling however she could. "Can we at l-least get to-go boxes?" "Oh." The ballerina blinked, and clapped her hands once. "Yes, of course we can." September, 2020 Dear Diary, A lot of things have happened. I got a 2nd date with Remy! We went to an okay Italian place, it was a double date with Penny + Pat, Pat got a new leg recently. It looks totally natural. My "sister" showed up though, so we had to leave a little early. My stutter came back, too. of a sad face Gotta go, Penny just opened my door. Diary, if Penny talks to you, please, please don't unlock for her or tell her anything I've written in here. --- "I think we m-missed the Masquerade," Rita twisted her lips to the side, "But Rose said s-something about another Ball, so, d-do... w-would you maybe be okay with being my date for that one?" "Yeah," Remy's voice was quiet. "I mean, if you'll still have me." "Of course I'll still 'have' you," For a moment, Rita wasn't sure what he was being so shy about. Then, she realized. "I-I still think you're pretty," She rushed, and then, ''Goddammit, Rita, she berated herself, That's like the worst thing you've ever said.'' "Okay, then," He nodded, swallowing. "It's a date, I guess." October, 2020 Dear Diary, Sorry for not writing, we got in a fight with my "sister" and then were kidnapped for a few days and then were in the hospital for a few more days. Better now, just got out today, me and Penny + Pat are pretty okay, but Remy was permanently scarred from the fire like all on his face and down his left side. He's self-conscious about it. I'm not sure what to do. I still think he's like the super best and coolest guy since sliced bread (or whatever), and I think it even more nowbecause the whole reason he got burnt in the first place was because he was trying to help me. He also broke his leg, also trying to help me, and it was a really bad break, and it's gonna take forever to heal. It's all entirely my fault. I'm a little glad we fought, though, I mean, everyone got really hurt, but we're all alive. It's kinda selfish. This isn't writing about normal things, and I'm sorry, but I don't know what to do. Maybe I could take Remy to Grem? --- She nudged her shimmering shoes to one side and finished her recap of their history with a nervous grin. "S-so I guess, d-... do you want to keep d-dating?" "Well," Remy's expression was hard to read. Cautious? Curious? "What do you want?" No fair. Summoning her courage in a long inhale, Rita twisted her fingers around each other. "I think I..." She dug her heels into the thin carpet and made herself look him in the eyes. This was it. "Yeah, I'd really like to." It sounded like a sigh. She ignored the blood flushing her face. "I think it'd be wonderful to keep dating. Even all the parts where monsters showed up and tried to kill us, I really liked being with you, and I think it'd be awesome to get to know you better." She hadn't even stuttered; all she could think about was how blue his eyes were, then his lips met hers and everything evaporated. Awesome. October 2020 Dear Diary, Everyone was right about the 3rd date being really important. I asked Remy to go to the dance thing with me, and he said yes. drawing of a smiley face I got a makeover and a sort-of free dress for it, but then I accidentally signed myself up to set up the whole ball almost by myself, in my new dress. I did all of it without even breaking a sweat, though, or messing up my hair. of a skirted stick figure, flexing its arms The ball was really amazing, even though Remy and I didn't dance, since he still has a broken leg. After it we went to the bar, and I got a tiny bit drunk and tried to call preemptive truce with his ex. [T''ext here has been scribbled out, but appears to read'' "She has guns." An arrow points to the omission from the phrase ''"Not normal," ''written in the margin] Hunter got drunk for the first time, and Penny got super high on something. Then we got sober, and Remy walked with me back to my roombecause I had to change clothes, and we had the super scary talk everyone said we had to have, but it wasn't scary at all once we started talking. So I think we're boyfriend+girlfriend now. Also we kissed, and it was amazing. I don't think anybody saw us. Sent Letter The horse of vines faltered as it kicked into the sky and soared over blazing Carpus on its wooden wings. Rita heard her friends yelling, heard Hunter crying, and it only fueled the Wrath that veiled her sight in red haze. The split sea was closing fast over the trail of bark and paint. Her lungs burned. If she could only... Dempsey was gone. She could... The blurred realm in the distance waited, unmoved by the fetch's bravado. Arawna's spear was cold in her hand. The borrowed mount heaved and listed; Rita knew the pegasus wouldn't make it across the sea. You need to change your behavior, the Harvest King scolded in her head. Her Wrath wavered, and Rita pulled up on the weedy reins. She was too late. October(?), 1890(?) Dear Remy, I'm sorry for a lot of things. I know that doesn't change what's happened, but I know that everything I did leading up to this was wrong, and I want to tell you that I'm going to fix this. I want to tell you that, I mean, but I shouldn't because it's not trueI don't think I can fix any of it. I should have realized what was happening to Dempsey. I should have convinced him not to listen to the calling, even if it meant getting in trouble. [Text here has been scribbled out, but originally read, "I should have gone back to Mother and Father's house and tried to lead them away from the freehold, back when I had the chance." An arrow points to the omission, from: "OK that was a bad idea but I still feel bad that I didn't do anything," written in the margin] I don't know how, but when we ran through the hedgegate after Dempsey, I had this feeling that if we went in, we weren't coming back, but I was so angry and so scared I couldn't stop or think. Even if all of that was some kind of weird, unavoidable, magic destiny, I shouldn't have yelled at you or ever considered crossing that sea. Wherever we are now, whatever's going to happen to all of us, all we have left from home is each other. It's so selfish, but I'm secretly really, really glad you're here, it makes all of this suck way less. I found your phone in the basement, before the whole attack. I know it won't work here, but it still has most of its battery, and its yours, so I'll give it back next time I see you. Mine is running low, so I'm turning it off until we make it back to Cresthaven (the one where chargers exist). Notes: The above entry was torn out shortly after it was written. --- Adjusting Period "You remember that book I gave you, about the Crimson Spear?" Arawna brightened. "I liked that book." "Okay, he's the King of Summer here, and he's downstairs, and I might have accidentally challenged him to a duel just now, and I can't fight, and my sword just shatters every time," The words kept flowing out of her mouth like a river, and Arawna was edging closer to her. "And I wondered if maybe you could fight him instead-" "You want me," Arawna pointed to herself. Her expression wasn't a proper expression, and Rita wasn't sure if the Head-Taker was offended. "To test the skills my father passed down to me, and the blade he bestowed upon me, against the Crimson Spear's steel?" "I-i-if you don't want t-" "Yes! Of course I want to fight him!" She flung out an open hand, and her ruby halberd flew into it from her bedside. "W-w-w-w-..." Rita backed away from her double. "I-I didn't know you could do that." Arawna was already behind her, though, and threw the door open. "Let's go!" October, 1890 Dear Diary, I guess I shouldn't bother trying to keep things normal-only in here. We're backward in time by like a hundred and thirty years, but everyone is okay. The King of Ashes seems like a really nice guy, but he said that's because I haven't seen him on a bad day yet. Sounds like he's all talk, except we all saw him chop off a guy's head like two minutes after we walked in the door, so he might actually be a psycho, can't tell yet. The guy he Degollar'd was a loyalist or something, but so was Arawna. I miss dad. He used to have weird jokes for everything, like "(insert something) just got Degollar'd!And he'd mostly say it to fish when we'd go camping. If I ever kill anyone, and I hope I never do, but if I do and I cut off their head, I'll totally say "You just got Degollar'd!" for dad, in case I never see him again. But I'll make sure Arawna isn't there to hear. She doesn't want to be called The Head-Taker anymore, so I don't think I should tell her that her last name means to decapitate. Things already kind of suck enough for her. I kinda wish she'd stop hanging around Remy all the time, but it's not like she has other friends, except for THE CRIMSON SPEAR who is SO SO COOL (or warm haha I'm a dork [Drawing of a "sad" face]). Anyway, I think they get along, I hope they can be friends, so that way she can get out more. I know the whole "Merge with your changeling" thing is supposed to be the best thing ever, but I just want to be a veterinarian and let her go do her own thing. Which reminds me, the freehold really needs money, so I'm starting my own business as a veterinarian even though I'm just a vet tech, but because 1890 is RACIST I made a white old guy doctor disguise out of my head so hopefully no one will burn the place down, and I just like, step into it. I gave him a doctor-y suit. There isn't too much paperwork, but I don't wanna do any of the bookkeeping, so I hired Lumpy to be my front desk lady. I know that sounds like a bad idea, but I'm sure she'll do a really good job, and if anything happens, I can just dream-make a new identity and start over. Remy totally sleeps like a rock. Softest rock ever. --- Interrogation Notes: The following three entires were recorded during the day that "Flea Bag," aka Bryan Sharpe, was held captive at Cresthaven. Rita Degollar was assigned to be his interrogator. -- "How've you been adjusting to life here in 1890? I'm sure it's been very hard on you." "U-um," Rita's pen scritched at the scrap paper. She needed to stay on topic and ask smart questions, but right now she couldn't seem to do either very well. "Th-th-th, thum... the, um... You, you m-met N-Nick e-eight mo-months ago, you s-said?" "Approximately, yes, that's right," Flea Bag stared at her and he didn't even need eyes to do it. Rita had untied his hands, though she was wishing more and more that she hadn't. "Will your beau be joining us?" He inclined his burlap-bagged head. "Remy, right?" I wish,'' Rita lamented. He was a cop, he'd be so much better at this than me. "N-n-no, um, when-... when-" '' "How is he?" "Wh-what kinds-... kinds of wo-wooo... -work," She struggled and shut her eyes. This was shaping up to be one of her bad days. "What kinds of work did R-RGI, um, uh, I mean, wh-what did, um, what did they have you d-doing for-... for them?" '' '''October, 1890' Diary, Quick entry, I wanna sleep. Conflicted about RGI. Some of the stuff Flea[ B]ag said, about us, about the witch, it kind of made sense, and kind of scared me, and I'm not sure I can trust people here or in 2020 as much as I have been. Bryan might be right, about RGI's goals being for the greater good. Told the kings everything anyway, since Frost would know if I withheld any info. They just have more questions now. I'll go back in a few hours to change Bag's bandages, and hopefully talk some more without spilling anything. He's trying to get something out of me. Don't know what. Reaction, maybe. Wanted to know about how we time-traveled pretty bad. Don't know why, if he can do it himself so much. Ugh. Somebody wants something. No nap for me. -- "I convince a King to allow himself to be somehow incapacitated." the bag covered his face, but Rita sensed a smug smile beneath it. "B-but-" "Must've been so hard, watching that," The eyes that he didn't have dug gouges into her. The mouth she couldn't see kept talking, kept describing the Autumn Mistake, now sounding more like the Autumn Murder, kept dragging out every vivid detail, the bark, the thorns, the paint, like Dempsey had been dragged in. Rita stuttered something about RGI. "You know the trail's going cold. I imagine you'll never find him now." October, 1890 All that stuff I said about Flea Bag saying some scary things that made me kinda not trust Cresthaven? No. He's definitely a creepy murderer assassin psycho, and he killed Dempsey, and before that, he killed Glenn, and after that, he said he was going to kill Kent, and King Frost, and Queen Rose, except he said he already killed them, except Queen Rose. Possibly lying. Possibly to get a reaction. Got a plan. -- He edged closer until he was almost standing over Rita, his posture so relaxed that it put her even more on edge. "Perhaps, then, you can tell me if this is ironic." He set his hands in the air like one crafting the setting for a story, and told her. Rita's mouth hung open. His words washed around her head like some river she couldn't believe was there. The King of Ashes was going to kill her father. The King of Ashes made a deal with Kerrville, and was going to kill her father. "And says, 'You just got Degollar'd!'" Flea Bag made the sweeping motion like he was wielding a scythe, like saying "Kerrville" was nothing. "Now, tell me, if you can: Is that ironic?" While most of Rita's mind was spent trying to believe that Flea Bag had just detailed her father's murder, a corner of her thoughts actually pondered the question. ''Yes, she decided. That is actually ironic. And, while she was at it, "It's-it's p-pronounced Dey-ho-YAR."'' "Oh, pardon me." He waved, "I don't speak your... tongue." She reacted. October, 1890 Flea Bag got out. I think it was my fault. He told me that I'd answered all of his questions and that I could leave, so I just waited outside to see if he was gonna break out, and I didn't see him leave, but apparently he did, and all the furniture was on the ceiling. Also probably definitely my fault. I'm not even being sarcastic, I kind of told him to the furniture on the ceiling by accident. and I slept in the lobby. my God, Diary, he is so smart and awesome and he totally punched Pawn in the face, which I kinda feel bad about, but Pawn kinda deserved it. I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Remy, but I don't want to be weird and say it so soon, so I'm gonna wait for like a couple weeks or something to be sure. Kerrville Having doubts about being at CresthavenKerrville again. RGI probably any better, if I left, I wouldn't to worry about getting shived in my sleep by changelings, or assassinated by travelers, or murdered in the Hedge, or anything. KERRVILLE The only thing I'd have be afraid of is Huntersand [I'm starting to think that, maybe, should take my chances. Hope Lady Green never reads this. seriously. Change my nameKerrville Save money, get my own place far awayKerrvilleKerrville. don't know if that would keepKerrvilleKerrvilleKerrvilleKerrvilleKerrvilleKerrvilleKerrville Him KerrvilleKerrvilleKerrvilleKerrvilleKerrville away. I don't know if anything can keep Him away. Notes: The Authorship of this entry is uncertain, though it is believed to be penned at least mostly by Rita. The entry is broken off for several pages, with every line and every margin in between filled with the word "Kerrville," written over 1,600 times. The pen appeared to run out of ink somewhere around the 1,200th instance. After this point, the in-between pages are damaged with frequent tears measuring ~1cm, presumably from the pressure of the dry nib. Coherent narrative resumes: I'm afraid KERRVILLE's going to come and fix me. I'm scared he'll put back the programming I took out, and make it a hundred times worse and stronger. I'm never going to be free or safe, no matter where I go. I just want everything to stop. I'm really scared. Notes: This entry is the last in Rita's first known, written-while-Awakened Diary. Category:Fiction Category:Fiction